


Charlie Weasley, Dragon General

by AngeNoir



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (yes they all do go together trust me), Dark!Harry, Domestic, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 00:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie woke up to sunlight slanting into his eyes. With a grumble, he rolled to bury his face in the sheets and promptly had a mouthful of black hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charlie Weasley, Dragon General

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChokolatteJedi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/gifts).



> I really hope this works for you, I'm so sorry.

Charlie woke up to sunlight slanting into his eyes. With a grumble, he rolled to bury his face in the sheets and promptly had a mouthful of black hair.

That surprised him enough that he sat up, blinking in the sunlight, as Harry muttered under his breath and tugged the sheets closer to his body.

“Well, hello, you,” Charlie murmured, looking around the room. Harry hadn’t been due for inspection for another two days – it wasn’t that Harry had difficulty consolidating power, since the wizarding world as a whole were fairly passive unless directly attacked, it was just the sheer number of items on Harry’s plate that had him busy in so many different countries. Romania was pretty far down the list of Harry’s problems, and so he didn’t visit as often as Charlie wished he could.

Harry was facedown, shirtless – Charlie paused, and carefully tugged up a corner of the wrapped blankets. Completely naked, then, not just shirtless, which meant that Harry had been tired coming in but not exhausted. It also meant that there was a good chance of sleepy morning sex, if Charlie could cajole Harry just right.

The sun brought out deep blue highlights in the messy hair, spotlighted the numerous scars from duels and assassination attempts and battles Harry had weathered for the past four years. Tanned skin glowed elsewhere, a smooth expanse with a few freckles across Harry’s shoulders. Harry could never be called broad or powerful – he was too short and lithe for that – but there was a quiet, unassuming strength in those shoulders that Charlie admired and loved deeply.

It was there that Charlie started – carefully, because Harry had, after all, survived assassination attempts and no few of those had been attempted while Harry had been sleeping. Letting the tip of his finger brush against the rounded knob of Harry’s shoulder, delicately trace a path across Harry’s back, brushing against the black ink that spilled over his spine, before sliding the rest of the way to Harry’s other shoulder. There, he pressed a second finger down, and leaned over to whisper into Harry’s ear, “Good morning, love. You’re a bit early, wouldn’t you say?”

Harry grumbled into the pillow, but Charlie saw his wand-arm relax, and knew that Harry had let go of his wand once he’d heard Charlie’s voice. Smiling, he nipped at the top of Harry’s ear before sliding his nose down the side of Harry’s hair and nuzzling at the crook of Harry’s neck. “Want a bit of a rub-down?” he said suggestively.

Even though Harry was ruler of the world, pretty much, and a hardened killer from the tumultuous two-year war that had cemented his control over wizarding Britain, innuendo still made him blush. Harry rolled onto his back, the sheets slipping and shifting to barely remain covering Harry’s groin and lower legs.

“Blanket hog,” Charlie murmured fondly as Harry blinked sleep-dazed green eyes unfocusedly up at him.

Harry humphed and poked a finger into the center of Charlie’s chest. “You’re just a giant that takes up too much space,” he yawned.

Charlie huffed out a laugh and leaned down, pressing a kiss against the tip of Harry’s nose as his right hand stroked down Harry’s chest, lingered against the hard planes, the slightly soft give of flesh. He could ask about Harry’s work, about what Harry had been doing, about how it was going, but he didn’t want Harry tense and worrying right now. So instead, he shifted closer to Harry, hand slipping lower against Harry’s abdomen, settling into the groove of Harry’s hip. “But I’m your giant,” Charlie whispered.

At that, Harry’s eyes went hot and dark, and something like amazement flashed before Harry’s expression turned sly and smug. “That you are,” he purred, arcing up into Charlie’s touch. “You have off today?”

“Mmm, not today,” Charlie hummed, chapped lips brushing against Harry’s jaw. He was a good seven inches taller than Harry, which meant he hunched a little to align them properly but also could tuck Harry up against his chest at night, so it all evened out, he supposed. Now, it made his neck twinge a bit, but he loved the pleased noises Harry made when Charlie sucked and bit at Harry’s neck and jaw.

(And if Charlie loved the fact that Harry would go out before the wizarding press with his marks hidden under the high collars of Harry’s robes, and that Harry would sometimes absentmindedly press fingers against them, well, that was no one’s business except Charlie’s.)

Harry pouted up at him, an expression that no one would believe he could make if Charlie ever divulged it.

Not that Charlie would, because he was jealously possessive of the time he had with Harry, and of the privacy of their actions, but still. Lord Harry simply didn’t _pout_.

Charlie informed Harry of this, tapping Harry’s nose in a playful scolding.

Harry squinted mulishly at Charlie. “I can damned well pout if I want to. I came here early to see _you_ more.”

“You’d see me more if you let me join you in London,” Charlie pointed out, though it was futile to do so, and he kept his voice teasing because Harry already felt bad about it no matter how necessary it was.

“Well, how long _do_ you have then?” Harry asked.

With a satisfied smirk, Charlie dragged his hand away from where it had been rubbing circles tantalizingly close to Harry’s cock and rolled onto his back, pulling Harry on top of him. The sheets didn’t hold up very well, leaving a very naked Harry with a half-hard cock straddling Charlie’s waist, arse pressed up against Charlie’s fully erect dick. “Long enough,” Charlie laughed, running his hands appreciatively over Harry’s thighs.

Harry rolled his eyes and held out his hand, wordlessly and wandlessly summoning his wire-rimmed glasses. All those years fighting and he still used glasses, instead of having his vision corrected by a medi-wizard. It was a quirk of Harry’s, and Charlie had to admit he loved the new, bookish look it lent Harry, when he knew Harry was the most feared wizard in all the Western world. With his glasses perched on his nose – they were spelled to not fall off unless lifted or touched by hands – Harry looked down at him and let a smile of dark satisfaction curl around his lips. “And just how long is that? I’ve got a lot saved up for this trip, you know.” Leaning down, hands braced on Charlie’s shoulders, Harry licked a long stroke up Charlie’s sternum to his Adam’s apple, biting hard at the sensitive throat.

Charlie let out a breathless laugh, head thrown back (he’d have such knots in his hair when he finally got up). “I’ve got to train some new recruits,” he groaned, cupping Harry’s arse and kneading the flesh there. “I’ve got an hour.”

“Hmm. I suppose we ought to be fast then,” Harry said, a bit mournfully, before pulling back from Charlie’s throat, his wand – which had probably been under the pillow he’d been sleeping on – now in his hand. With a few muttered words and practiced twitches, Harry had himself and Charlie lubed. Not stretched, though, and there was a cold twitch that lodged at the base of Charlie’s dick that let him know Harry had cast an additional spell, to keep Charlie from coming.

So it was going to be like that, then.

Charlie couldn’t help the thrum of anticipation that electrified his spine and he let out a small gasp as Harry gripped his dick and stroked it roughly a few times before pressing the head against Harry’s asshole. Harry liked it a bit rough, especially when they hadn’t seen each other for an extended period of time, and he liked to use Charlie’s dick as his own personal dildo.

“Oh god, Harry, please—” Charlie gasped as Harry _pushed_ and seated himself fully, the hot, semi-painful vise of Harry’s arse squeezing Charlie’s dick.

Harry had thrown back his head, back bowed and thighs trembling, and it couldn’t be all that comfortable for Harry, either, but then again it never was the first few times, and Harry could set up the most _punishing_ rhythms, almost as if it was self-flagellation for keeping his consort and his general out in Romania, so far away from where Harry worked and ruled most of the time. Over the course of time – because Harry always spent at least a full two weeks, if not a month, with Charlie when he came to visit – Harry would gradually let Charlie have some control back (toppy little bottom, Charlie would tell him fondly, and Harry would pinch Charlie’s small paunch and reply smugly that he was ruler of the Western world, he got to be toppy if he wanted to be). In those later intimate encounters, Charlie would always go slow, careful, showing wordlessly that he didn’t blame Harry for their long periods apart, and that one day when Harry didn’t need Charlie stationed here, ready to fly out on a moment’s notice to put down another rebellion, they could stay in the mansion Harry had built for them and Charlie could pamper Harry and make sure he got some sleep once in a while.

Finally, _finally_ , Harry’s ass loosened enough that it wasn’t uncomfortably tight, and he rocked again, using his wand to enchant more lube, and Charlie moaned and tightened his hands on Harry’s hips as their flesh glided that much easier. Harry rose up on his knees, until just the tip of Charlie’s dick was in, and then, green eyes shining behind those narrow rims, Harry drove himself down.

Charlie gave up trying to think, trying to do anything except buck his hips up, knees and thighs providing some kind of rest for Harry as his shorter lover ground against him, flushed cock bobbing as he fucked himself on Charlie’s cock. When Charlie tried to reach for Harry, Harry batted his hands away and instead pinned them above Charlie’s head, mouth nipping punishingly at Charlie’s nipples and throat so all Charlie could do was rock up and writhe beneath Harry’s hold.

Harry let out a gasp, mouth gaping, and Charlie took advantage of that, turning his head to suck at Harry’s tongue and bite at Harry’s reddened lips. The change in angle must have Charlie’s cock rubbing against Harry’s prostrate, and Charlie pushed forward his chance, thrusting up and making Harry rock against him. Harry let out a broken sob of pleasure, sloppily returning Charlie’s kiss, and then he was tightening around Charlie again, convulsing as he released over Charlie’s abdomen and chest.

They were silent, as they always were, their first times, too caught up in the rush, their lovemaking over too quickly, and normally Charlie would have loved to pull Harry close, curl around him, but first, he hadn’t come yet, and second, he needed to shower and make certain Harry ate and figure out whether Harry had come with an escort of had just Apparated here ahead of his bodyguard detail. There were logistic problems, and with Harry here he’d have to have the warriors out for a greater inspection than they were prepared for – well, in all honesty, they should be prepared for it, but he didn’t know whether they needed those two days or not.

So Charlie curled his arms around Harry’s shuddering shoulders, pressed kisses to the top of his head, the tips of his ears, rubbed soothing circles along Harry’s back until Harry was slumped on top of Charlie’s chest, breathing heavy, slender fingers tracing runes over Charlie’s heart.

“Aren’t you going to get your poor consort off?” Charlie said mournfully.

Harry huffed and blinked sex-dazed eyes at Charlie before smiling darkly. “Breakfast first.”

So it was _that_ kind of mood, then. Charlie groaned as Harry pulled off, clambered out of the bed and stood there, unashamedly nude. The Lord of the Western World pulled the white sheet around his darkly tanned body and said imperiously, “I’d like pancakes.”

“Of course, my lord,” Charlie muttered, but his blue eyes were twinkling.

Harry slanted Charlie a superior look. “Don’t lose that erection, general,” he said silkily. “Otherwise you’ll only get off later tonight.”

Well, _fuck_.

Biting his lip, Charlie stumbled into the kitchen moments later, uncomfortably aware that his sweats were rubbing against his still-hard, still-lubed dick and that Harry’s cum was starting to dry over his chest, and began to get the necessary requirements for pancakes. As the Lord of the Western World’s Dragon General, he commanded the warriors that used dragons to put down rebellions with extreme and violent prejudice. They rode the wild beasts, and nothing was more exhilarating than riding a dragon, and there were outposts stationed all around Europe and even a few in America and Canada. Charlie stayed in Romania because they had the most success breeding them, and the Romanian outpost boasted of _seven_ full-grown dragons able to be ridden as well as three adolescent dragons still learning the saddle. Each dragon had a team of fifteen caretakers, as well as a team of five riders (in case one rider fell or got eaten). Harry would regularly make inspections here, trusting Charlie to inspect the other outposts for him, so it didn’t surprise Charlie that Harry, though he was clothed in nothing but a white sheet wrapped around his hips, was looking through the reports Charlie had left out on the table last night.

“I don’t like the rate of turnover in that Anchorage outpost,” Harry muttered. “Too many people are getting trained as dragon riders and then quitting.”

“I know,” Charlie said, making an effort to ignore the throb of arousal without losing his erection. “I’ve got someone looking into it. I would have had answers for you had you come two days later.”

Harry looked up, green eyes playful beneath that fringe that made him look so damn young and vulnerable. “Would you really have preferred for me to come two days later? I can leave if you want and come back at the scheduled time.”

So Harry had come without his escort, then – Charlie would have to contact Ron and Seamus and let them know where their ruler was, since Harry most likely just Apparated without telling the heads of his security. As it was, he came over with a glass of milk and gave Harry a filthy, thorough kiss. When he pulled back, Harry looked dazed, a light flush making his tan even darker in his cheeks and ears. “I like you where you are,” he responded, moving back to the oven.

Harry leaned back in the chair, fingers pressed against his mouth, and for a while it was silent, nothing more than the sound of Charlie cooking and the light birdsong from the windows. Charlie, by virtue of his position as the Dragon General, had the largest quarters built right into the cliff face, overlooking the valley where they stabled the dragons, and his kitchen had large windows that showed off the sunrise. The silence couldn’t last forever, and as Charlie was finishing up the first batch of pancakes, Harry said quietly behind him, “You believe in me, don’t you, Charlie?”

Charlie turned around, confused. “What do you mean, Harry?”

“I did the right thing. The wizarding world was just spiraling deeper and deeper into hate and fear-mongering. They were sowing the seeds of their own destruction. I just – I did the right thing, didn’t I?”

“What brought this on?” Charlie asked as he put the plate of pancakes before Harry, shifting a little as he tried both not to come to close to the edge of orgasm – orgasm denial for men was pretty fucking painful, and it _hurt_ to reach the edge and not actually be able to come – but not to lose his erection.

Harry tapped a finger against the table before turning to the window. “Ginny’s been sighted again, with Dean.”

Ah. Charlie bit his lip. He didn’t know how to comfort Harry, that the younger sister of Harry’s consort chose to become the biggest leader in the rebellion against Harry’s seizure of all the wizarding world situated in the west – Harry had resolutely and firmly explained to the Eastern and Southern countries and continents that he had no desire to meddle so long as they didn’t meddle with him – and her choice had hurt Harry deeply. Hell, she had been the one assassination attempt that had almost succeeded. When Harry, at the age of nineteen and newly entered into the Auror program, saw how deeply the corruption and anti-Muggle hatred ran, and how the purebloods had some merit to their arguments (not everything, of course, but shit, even Charlie had to admit that letting Muggles know about them would be disastrous, no matter what Dumbledore had once championed) – well, Harry had begun calling for change. The first assassination attempt had happened, by someone who had underestimated the Boy Who Lived, and then Harry began searching to find out who had sent someone after him. The Ministry of London had blocked him at every turn, but he managed to find out that the new minister, one Arthur Delabrous, had been the one to order it.

Harry had demanded restitution – the minister had denied him it. Harry demanded to be met in a wizarding duel, and the minister tried to have Harry locked up in Azkaban for mental instability.

Harry had killed the minister and placed himself as ruler of wizarding Britain. Then had come the other assassination attempts from other nations, and Harry’s slow acquisition of the entire Western world.

All before the age of twenty-one.

And at twenty-one, new leader of the western world and trying to rebuild a society that clung to its hatred of Muggles while clinging to its love of money and tradition, Harry had seen that he could not hold elections, not with the types of candidates available, and couldn’t control all the European nations alone. So he appointed Hermione as Head Secretary of Western Europe, Zachariah Smith as Head Secretary of America and Canada, and Ginny as Head Secretary of Eastern Europe.

Ginny had promptly attempted to assassinate Harry while he was sleeping at his desk one December evening.

That assassination attempt had been the one that had almost succeeded, and Charlie shuddered to think about how close it had been. He had been in Norway at the time, putting down another rebellion with three other dragon riders, and hadn’t heard the news until he’d returned to Romania and found Percy standing in his office, drawn and pale.

That hadn’t stopped Harry and Charlie from becoming closer, and indeed Charlie often wondered when, exactly, Harry had managed to worm his way into Charlie’s heart. Initially, it had just been fucking, a way for Harry to release steam, and, well, Charlie would have given everything to Harry. But then, in a ceremony in which Harry had named Charlie consort, to rule in Harry’s stead should Harry die…

Well.

“Just a sighting?” Charlie asked, moving behind Harry’s shoulders and rubbing at the stiffness and tension there.

Harry nodded, rubbing his eyes. Charlie forgot, sometimes, that Harry was barely twenty-six, practically a child still in wizarding terms, especially considering they could live to the age of two hundred years old fairly easily. The fact that the world, the economy, the safety, of all of his subjects rested on his shoulders…

“Well, if they’re going to run around, they’re going to run around. You have your dragon riders, and we’re always at the ready. You have the Army, as well. And I thought most of Eastern Europe was stable?”

“It is,” Harry conceded, letting his head fall back to lean against Charlie’s arm, moaning a little at the massage. “Thankfully. Canada, too. America, I think, is fighting because, well. America. And Western Europe just doesn’t like kings in general, let alone kings that make them treat all sentient creatures fairly.”

Charlie leaned down and kissed the corner of Harry’s mouth. “Eat your food, love. Know that your bodyguards are always there for you, and you have your Dragon General and his dragons.”

Harry smiled warmly, and ran a hand up Charlie’s arm to hook around Charlie’s neck and bring Charlie in for a deep kiss. “I do love you, you know,” Harry murmured.

“I know,” Charlie replied easily, stepping away.

Harry dug into the chocolate chip pancakes with gusto, and if Charlie discreetly rubbed the back of Harry’s hand or was more tactile than normal, well, Harry didn’t mention it. And when Harry was done eating, he leaned back and eyed Charlie’s groin – where his erection wasn’t entirely gone, but neither was it fully erect. Charlie smiled sheepishly and hefted one shoulder. Comforting Harry emotionally was more important than his need to come.

Harry, however, didn’t seem to think so, because he frowned and moved the plates and cup to the sink. “I really wanted to suck you off, you know,” he said. “But you didn’t stay hard.”

“I can wait, for tonight,” Charlie sighed.

Harry studied him a moment before letting out a put-upon sigh and then shoving Charlie up against the wall. “Oh well, I suppose I can break my word _this once_.”

“Har-ry!” Charlie gasped, head falling back to thunk against the wood, as Harry swallowed down around Charlie’s dick. Charlie wasn’t half-hard anymore, but _there_ , teetering on the edge, and it really wasn’t fair of Harry at all, it really, really wasn’t, and Charlie was stuttering and panting and babbling Harry’s name and pleas for mercy, for something, anything at all, and Harry just quirked his lips in a dark smile and swallowed around Charlie’s cock.

Charlie tried, he tried _so hard_ , but he couldn’t come with that damnable spell on him and it hurt, it really, really did, to hit that cliff and then have his release snatched away from him, and he was sobbing, pleading, gripping Harry’s messy hair and scraping his nails against Harry’s scalp.

“No, not like this,” Harry said, voice husky from deep-throating Charlie, eyes fever-bright, and then Harry was bending over the kitchen table, lifting his arse, and his hole was glistening with lube again. “You’re not coming anywhere except in me.”

That was an idea Charlie could agree with, and within moments he was across the kitchen (well, he nearly tripped and fell, forgetting that his sweats were around his ankles, and he came up blushing as Harry laughed at his fumbling). He braced his hands on the table and _slammed_ home.

Harry gasped, raising up on the tips of his toes, back in a beautiful bow, fingers scrabbling against the heavy oak table, but Charlie didn’t give him time to adjust, he needed his release _now_ , and he pulled back and slammed forward, hunching again and again, and Harry was moaning now, thrusting back into Charlie, and then Harry was groaning out the counterspell so that Charlie could come—

Charlie yelled, head thrown back and callused hands dragging over the smooth-scarred skin of Harry’s back as he pumped out his release into Harry’s hole, letting it leak down Harry’s thighs and over Harry’s balls. Weakly, he slumped forward, one clumsy hand fumbling underneath Harry until it curled around Harry’s cock and stroked.

Harry came with a hoarse shout, writhing against the table like a cat in heat, and Charlie groaned deep in the back of his throat and rested his forehead between Harry’s shoulder blades, against the tattooed phoenix that stretched its wings out over Harry’s back and threw its head back in a defiant shriek.

After a few moments, Harry wiggled. “Merlin,” Harry croaked. “Gerroff, Charles. You’re fucking heavy.”

With a grunt, Charlie pulled off of Harry and winced as his knee banged into the leg of the table. It took a bit to coordinate himself enough to stand up and look at the mess they had made on the floor. “Dammit, Harry,” he said in resignation. “There’s a bed literally across the hall.”

“Eh. More fun this way. Oh, and if Ron frantically firecalls you to tell you they lost me again—”

Fuck, Charlie still needed to alert Harry’s escort. And run that inspection. And get to work on that budget. And run that session with the new recruits. He rubbed his forehead even as Harry stood up and smirked at Charlie’s obvious annoyance.

“I hate you,” he muttered, but he reached out and his fingers curled lightly around Harry’s wrist, feeling the heartbeat there.

Harry laughed and pressed a kiss over Charlie’s heart, where a black phoenix sat regally in a nest, safe and sound at home. “I know,” he murmured in response.


End file.
